


Remembered

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I love Ronan and Noah's friendship, Post-Canon, this was cathartic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 23:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: “Noah?”Ronan’s voice was quiet, tentative. He didn’t know why that name felt right, but it did. And that’s when he noticed he wasn’t alone. As if naming the chilly sensation had summoned its source. There stood a young man in an Aglionby sweater and red sneakers, pale hair teased by the wind murmuring through the trees. Ronan blinked, and then all the memories flooded back into him, along with relief and excitement and a tiny bit of famous Lynch temper.





	Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little late with the prompt fill for yesterday's [ Fictober](https://fictober-event.tumblr.com/post/187637998976/fictober-2019), but it's finished!  
Day 14 - “I can't come back.”  
Yet another post-series indulgence - I love Noah Czerny okay? Hope you enjoy!

Cabeswater was cold when Ronan’s dream brought him there. Not terribly unusual, as autum crept in on Singer’s Falls, Ronan embraced the crisp chill of the mornings and fancied the fire colors on all the trees. As much as light and music and cars, Ronan Lynch adored fall and the trees were more than happy to accommodate. However, as he traversed the plush grass, greeted the magic in his dream, Ronan knew this kind of cold was different. It took him a moment to place it, for it felt both new and distantly familiar all in one brush. Like a memory skillfully hiding itself in corners, easily found if one knew where to look.. 

“Noah?” 

Ronan’s voice was quiet, tentative. He didn’t know why that name felt right, but it did. And that’s when he noticed he wasn’t alone. As if naming the chilly sensation had summoned its source. There stood a young man in an Aglionby sweater and red sneakers, pale hair teased by the wind murmuring through the trees. Ronan blinked, and then all the memories flooded back into him, along with relief and excitement and a tiny bit of famous Lynch temper. 

“Hey, man.”

Noah smiled at him, looking more real than ever. There were no shadows on his face. He may as well have been alive, and maybe because of Ronan’s dream and Cabeswater, he was. 

“Lynch, you bastard.” 

They exchanged a previously-agreed-to handshake, which was more a tangled combination of high fives, fist bumps and one of them trying to get the other into a headlock. Ronan was the first to succeed at it; he always was. He ground his knuckles into Noah’s soft, messy hair. 

“You little shit. What the fuck, where have you been?”

Noah, with all his considerable energetic skill, squirmed out of his hold. His attempt to fix his hair was just a sloppy sweep to get it out of his face. “I’m dead, remember?”

Ronan’s brows drew together in a pinch. He never liked remembering that because all of his memories were living things in his head, and he’d wanted so badly for Noah to be alive, whether he really knew it or not. “That’s not an excuse,” he huffed. “When are you coming back to Henrietta?”

“I can’t come back,” Noah said, his eyes sad. He didn’t look away from Ronan though. “I shouldn’t have been there with you guys in the first place. I cheated.”

Ronan snorted, his expression angry to cover up the hurt. He crossed his arms. “Don’t say that shit. You were right where you needed to be. And you’re part of us. Did you make us forget you, you Casper-fucker?”

Noah laughed in spite of himself. “You already know the answer to that.”

“It’s not fair.” The sentiment encompassed about eighty-five percent off what they’d all been through, with about as much acceptance as one who knew all too well that life wasn’t fair. 

“I made a choice.” Noah shoved his hands in his pockets and tipped his head back to the treetops, the blue-grey autumn sky above them. “Neither of us deserved to die that day, and I couldn’t save myself.”

Ronan wanted to punch something, throw Noah in the babbling Cabeswater lake,  _ something _ . But he kept his hands clenched at his sides. “Even if he doesn’t remember you, he misses you.” Unspoken was,  _ we all do _ .

“You’ve started bringing him here right? You and Parrish?” 

His smile showed his teeth, and Ronan could only remember smiles like that from Noah when they were up to their ears in shenanigans. When Noah was  _ happy _ . The closure of his story, his life, maybe it had led to a better place. Maybe Ronan could answer the question for himself about peace after death, the big unknown he could only pray for the answers to every Sunday. Or maybe Cabeswater knew when magic was needed for catharsis; it certainly seemed that way. They’d missed Noah without realizing they missed Noah, and here he was. Noah didn’t elaborate when Ronan nodded his answer about Gansey coming to Cabeswater with him and Adam. Noah didn’t have to say anything else.

“Am I going to remember this when I wake up?”

“Mmmm,” the answer dragged out in a sing-song hum. “I don’t think so, but you’ll probably feel better?” Noah shrugged. “You guys know a lot more about this magic stuff than I do. I’m just the ghost.”

“Bastard,” Ronan snapped, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted Noah to be remembered; it’s all he’d ever wanted. He wanted his friend to be  _ known _ . 

“Hey.” Noah touched his cheek, his fingertips as icy as ever. “Just because I’m gone doesn’t mean I’m not somewhere  _ here _ .” 

The agreeable whisper of the trees made  _ here _ feel like  _ everywhere _ . He would be in Ronan’s heart, in Gansey’s…Adam’s and Sargent’s too. It made gone feel nebulous, almost a lie. Noah’s legacy lived on the ley lines, in the dusty corners of Monmouth and in every paper raven that took to the skies at Aglionby. 

“Hey,” Ronan echoed. “Fuck you.”

Noah laughed, and Cabeswater caught the sound in its branches, trickled it like rainwater over the leaves. It wouldn’t forget. 

When Ronan woke up in his dreaming barn, tangled in the knitted blanket Aurora Lynch had made years ago, he felt lighter. Usually his dreams had him coming back carrying something extra with him he hadn’t had when he’d fallen asleep. But this felt like a weight had been lifting was suddenly gone. He padded over to one of the windows, shrugging further into the blanket like it was a cape. Outside, the trees shook in the ambitious late October wind. Ronan took a deep breath, then leaned forward to exhale it across the glass. On its foggy surface, he wrote “REMEMBERED”, and for a brief moment, it felt urgent to Ronan to know what he was remembering. But as he watched the condensation fade, taking the letters with it, the urgency untangled until he was left with the chill of the morning.

Ronan felt peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me about TRC over at my [ TRC blog](http://oldkingyounggod.tumblr.com)!  
Also, a shameless plug for [Czernsgiving](http://czernsgiving.tumblr.com), a celebration of Noah taking place on tumblr December 1-7. Come share the love for Noah with us!


End file.
